At Seventeen
by Pihorist
Summary: [ExCxR, OCC, Revised]Love is tricky, and this is something that Christine will learn the hard way...Oneshot.


**At Seventeen**

_"I learned the truth and seventeen_

_That love was meant for beauty queens"_

Christine sat at a table far away from her parents, who were chatting with some other wealthy old couple. She sat far away from the dance floor, where the beautiful noblewomen danced with equally beautiful noblemen.

Because of her lack of beauty and social graces, she was considered one of the outcasts of nobility. She was seventeen and had yet to marry. Suitors never chased her after, as they had done with the other girls of nobility.

She looked to the dance floor, where the musicians near the wall were playing a soft, airy tune. The couples on the floor where dancing in slow, lazy circles. Women smiled at their male partners, and they smiled back, all oblivious to the outcast girl sitting far away from them.

But one person was not.

He stood leaning against the wall near the entrance of the ballroom. He wore a plain black tuxedo like many of the men there, but unlike many of the men there, he wore a white mask over most of his face. His hair was long and black, tied back into a loose ponytail, the bangs left to hang just above his golden eyes.

He watched the blonde woman stand up from her table. It was obvious she was going to leave, by her slumping posture and her teary eyes. Just before she passed him by, he walked out of his shadowed corner and stood in front of her.

"This is for you," He said, thought it seemed like a whisper. He pulled his hand out from behind his back, and held out a rose for her. The rose was blood red and beautiful. She reached out and took it hesitantly from his hand.

His lips twitched into a smile. "It's almost as beautiful as you, you know…"

Christine looked up at him as the tears that had been in her eyes cascaded down her cheeks. She stepped forward and buried her head in his chest, still crying. A part of her that wasn't overwhelmed with emotion wondered why she was acting so emotional and taking comfort in the arms of a man who she barely knew. She had heard of him—a man blessed with amazing musical talents, but cursed with a hideous face that he hid behind a mask. Yet, that didn't explain why she was crying into his chest.

Erik brought his arms up to hug her as her shoulders shook with more sobs. Slowly, he led the both of them outside.

_"And those of us with ravaged faces _

_Lacking In the social graces_

_Desperately remained at home"_

From a distance one could see two figures sitting side by side on the edge of a fountain.

The two figures were a man and a woman—one who wore a black tuxedo coat over her dress, leaning against a man who wore a mask over his face. The woman laughed at something the man said, and he in turn smiled.

Someone called for the girl near a large mansion situated away from the fountain. The woman gave a gasp and stood up, quickly handing over the jacket she was wearing. She began to run towards the mansion, but suddenly turned back and ran back to the man. She bent down and whispered in his ear before giving him a kiss on the side of the mouth. Then she began to run back to the mansion.

The man—Erik—stood up, his fingers coming up to touch the place where she kissed him. She looked beautiful in the moonlight, and her smell was enticing—to say the least. He closed his eyes and inhaled as he put on his jacket. Then, he began to walk to the mansion where his carriage awaited him.

Someone was watching, though. Both the young woman and the man were oblivious.

.

_"Inventing lovers on the phone_

_Who called to say, 'Come dance with me.'"_

It was another dismal ball that Christine had been forced to attend in hopes of finding a suitor.

This time she sat at a table all by herself, near the dance floor, not in the back. Her parents were off again, chatting with another wealthy couple, leaving her to fend for herself.

Christine ignored the dancers, ignored the soft music wafting through the air, thinking only of a certain masked man. After the ball she had met him at, the two had secretly met regularly. She found herself steadily falling for him, looking forward to each secret visit that they shared.

Abruptly she was brought out of her reverie when a hand appeared in front of her vision. Her gaze drifted over the hand, up the arm it was attached to, and she looked into the face of the man that was holding his hand out to her. He was very attractive—blonde hair that fell freely over his face, and piercing blue eyes that looked right into her soul. Christine blushed and ducked her head.

"Yes?" she asked, meekly.

The man gave a short laugh, mockery seemingly just under the surface of it, and said, "I would like to dance with you."

The blonde young woman looked up at him in shock. This was the first time she had been asked to dance, and on top of it all, by a very attractive man. She lowered her head, blushing again, and took his hand.

_"And murmured vague obscenities_

_It isn't all it seems, at seventeen."_

.  
Christine's heart was soaring as she looked in the face of her male partner. Her partner, who she had danced with most of the night, had told her his name was Raoul. The pair didn't have much in common, but she seemed to connect with him. As she was spun around, she gave him a shy smile, which was returned with a dazzling smile that nearly made her swoon.

They danced many times that night—so many, she lost count. When she finally finished dancing, the young man promised to meet with her again. She smiled and told him that she would be willing to meet with him any time. He winked at her as he left.

She felt like she had taken a dose of one of the drugs Erik seemed to be so enamored with. She stopped abruptly, thinking about her new feelings for her dancing partner Raoul, and the ones for her masked friend Erik. All she could think about now was Raoul—she had a hard time placing Erik in her thoughts. She couldn't tell if her feelings for Raoul were love or infatuation—but then again, were her feelings for Erik love or infatuation?

Trying to sort out her feelings after such an exhausting day was making her head hurt. She would sleep and decide what to do…tomorrow.

_"A brown-eyed girl in hand-me-downs _

_Whose name I never could pronounce_

_Said, 'Pity, please, the ones who serve…_

_They only get what they deserve.'"_

Sunlight streamed through the tall trees situated around the gardens. Near one of the trees, Christine sat a table with two other noblewomen, one obviously older and the other the same age as her. The older one, though in the age of declining youth, managed to still be beautiful. The one that was Christine's age was definitely beautiful, if not gorgeous. They sat across from Christine, actively talking to her, stopping to take a sip of tea or a bite of a small sandwich once in a while.

Far from the table, but not that far, there was another table of men. Raoul sat with three other men, all handsome, but not as handsome as he. They spoke in hushed whispers, occasionally looking over to the group of women once in a while.

"So, Raoul, why have you brought her with you today?" A red haired man asked, taking sip of his wine.

The answer the blonde gave was enigmatic and short. "I simply wanted her to meet my close lady friends."

Another man spoke up, this one brunette, laughing immaturely. "Are you planning to ask for her hand?"

Raoul's eyes suddenly went cold and calculating. He smiled, almost a cold smile, "Perhaps…"

Christine, however, was oblivious to the eyes on her. She was actively listening and talking with two of the most popular girls in nobility—she hadn't even dreamt of this ever happening.

The day after the ball she met Raoul at, Raoul had sent a message that he would like to meet with her in a few days. She left for his mansion—in secret, as always—and they had dinner together, talking about random things. Many times, now, she had dinner with him—but this was the first time that she had gone to meet his friends—and in the middle of daylight. It was trickier sneaking out, but well worth it.

For a split second she thought back to Erik, whom she had been meeting with less and less of. Most of the time she was meeting with Raoul, which made it hard to see him. There had been more than one occasion that she had lied to Erik to get out of meeting him, to see Raoul. She had felt very guilty afterwards, but always forgot her guilt when she was around Raoul.

Raoul appeared next to her, almost out of nowhere, and held out his hand. Christine took his hand, smiling but confused, waving to her new friends as she left the garden and was brought inside the large hall adjacent to the garden.

_"The rich-relationed home town Queen _

_Marries into what she needs_

_With a guarantee of company and haven for the elderly"_

Raoul gave her a dazzling smile as they stood alone in the large hall.

Christine smiled, again, and asked, "What did you need?"

"Well, I've been thinking…" Raoul cleared his throat. "I can't keep my feelings from you any longer."

Christine's brows furrowed. "Feelings? What feelings?"

"I've been meaning to tell you," Raoul paused, actually turning his head away. "I think I'm in love with you."

The young woman gasped. "Are…are you serious?"

Raoul turned back to her, giving her another one of his smiles, though this one seemed a bit off. "Yes. And I would marry you, if you would have me—"

"I would have you!" Christine blurted out. "I love you too!"

The blonde man grasped Christine's upper arms. "But…I am afraid I am engaged to another."

"…What…?" Christine whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

"But it does not have to be so—Christine. Run away with me."

Christine's mind was flying a mile a minute. "But…this is all so sudden…" she turned her head away to look around the hall, staring at the gilded wood and mirrored walls—anything but Raoul's face.

"The wedding is soon," He seemed nearly pleading. "Please! If we are going to do this, it must be within the next three days!"

"I can't, I can't!" Christine cried out. "This is much too fast, much too rushed!"

"But I love you!" Raoul nearly yelled. He dropped to his feet. "Please, Christine. We can live alone, together, with nothing but our wealth and our love.

The moment she looked into Raoul's eyes, her resolve disappeared. "I…I will do so."

Raoul was simply beaming. "Excellent. There is one thing I need you to do, though…"

Christine's expression softened at her husband-to-be's happiness. "What…?"

"I have seen you going about with that man, Erik…If you truly love me, you will do this for me."

"I truly love you…I will do what you ask…" The blonde young woman smiled up at him and embraced him.

He looked straight into her eyes. "Erik knows far too much…he will be jealous, he is possessive. He will alert your parents and my parents to our schemes. I want you to dispose of him."

She dropped her arms away from him and backed away. "What…? I…I…can't do this."

For a second, the hall's wood tiled floor seemed to spin under her. She thought she was going to faint—her hands came up to bury in her hair. "Why…why…why can't you do it….I cannot…I…will not…."

Raoul, noting her state of distress, seized her upper arms and forced her to look at him. His grip on her arms was nearly bruising. "Christine! You said you would do it…Do you truly love me?"

Christine hiccupped, her eyes filling with tears. "Yes…But…Why….I don't understand…"

Raoul sighed. "It is nothing to worry about. It will be only a few drops of blood and it will be over with."

Still, she cried. "When…when must I do this…?"

Embracing her, he softly rubbed her back as she cried into his suit jacket. "Tomorrow. You will see him tomorrow, and after you have finished, I will be waiting for you in the town square."

Christine nodded numbly. "I think…I think I should leave."

In an understanding way, Raoul led her out of the hall. He held her hand as she got in the carriage, kissed her goodbye, and smiled his wonderful smile as she left.

Yet Christine did not take note of this. As she rode home, all she could focus on were the trees. Her head resting against the cool glass window of the carriage, she watched the dappled patterns made by the twilight sun shining through the tree leaves pass by the carriage. In the dusk, everything seemed to have a softer edge. She wondered if it was because of tears or the window.

_"Remember those who win the game_

_Lose the love they sought to gain_

_In debentures of quality and dubious integrity"_

"You wanted to see me?" Erik said as he poured two glasses of champagne.

As always, Christine was seated at another table. It was a table for two, in a dimly lit room. Soft music drifted out of nowhere—Christine thought she could hear the last threads of her sanity snapping to the beat of the music. Erik handed her a glass as he sat down.

"Yes…" she spoke softly, almost hollowly. "Where is our relationship heading…?"

Erik smiled. "Whatever do you mean, my dear Christine?"

Christine's eyes filled with tears. "Do you love me?"

The atmosphere around Erik turned serious. "Yes."

"That was all I wanted to know, Erik…" She whispered, turning her head away. Her eyes were glazed and unfocused.

The masked man frowned. What was wrong with her tonight? "And what about you, Christine? Do you love— "

"Please refill my glass," The young woman cut off.

Still frowning, Erik filled the champagne glasses. "As I asked Christine—"

To Christine, it happened so fast. She stood up hastily, ripping the knife she had tied to her thigh with a ribbon away, and plunging it in Erik's back. He was a couple of feet away from her, so it was easy for her to thrust the knife in him.

She withdrew it when she heard Erik give a shuddery gasp. He turned around, meeting her eyes.

"Christine…" He coughed, blood splattering on her dress all over now—from his closeness and his wound and the dagger…"Why….?….I loved you…"

In a bout of insanity, Christine screamed and stabbed Erik again. She stabbed him again and again and again until the handle of the knife was slick with his blood and there was blood pouring down the front of her dress.

And finally, when the knife dropped out of her hands because the handle was too slick with blood to get a good grip on, Erik fell forward into her arms. Christine screamed, again, and dropped him, nothing but a hysterical mess by now.

His beautiful golden eyes were open wide, glassy, his expression now forever set into one of horror and shock. Blood mixed with the black fabric of his suit, pooling around his torso and finding its way into his glossy black hair, which was fanned out behind him. His chest was a mass of bloody, gaping wounds—it was impossible to say how many times Christine had stabbed him. Flesh and fabric seemed to blend together with the mixing of blood.

Christine was still screaming, amazed by how much blood was on her and the dress and on her hands and in her hair…she tried wiping her hands off on her dress but they were only bloodied further. She ran out of the room, knowing they were the only ones in the house, and that they were too far deep into the house for anyone to have noticed her screams. In a frenzy, she ran into numerous rooms, ripping open the closets and looking for dresses to change into. She couldn't tell if she was still screaming or not.

Finally, she found a room with a single white dress. She washed the blood out of her hair in the nearby sink, and off her face and hands too. Wiping her hands clean on the only clean part of her bloodied dress---the inside—she changed into the white gown she had found. Dimly, she noted it was a wedding dress.

_"To those of us who knew the pain_

_Of valentines that never came…"_

As Christine made her way out of Erik's tomb, she was still trembling. She could not count how many times she had thrown up in the nearby bathroom. Afterwards, she had deteriorated into another fit of hysterics at the sight of her bloodied dress. She cried and screamed and finally ran out of the house, trembling and shaking in great tremors.

She came to the town square, but saw nobody there. Perhaps it wasn't the time yet….maybe she was done earlier than expected….At that thought, Christine sat down on the edge of the Town Square's fountain and began to sob.

Hours passed. The tears would not stop flowing. She heard Raoul's voice suddenly, and her head jerked up.

But it was not what it was expected.

He had his arm around another girl—and they were intimately locking lips, running their hands furiously over each other. Raoul drew back and moaned, "Carlotta—" which was cut off when the young woman drew him back into a kiss.

Carlotta. The younger girl at the garden party. Raoul…was kissing her. The young woman leaned into Raoul's ear, nipping at it and then whispering in it. He groaned, then put his arm around her waist and led them away from the edge of the town square.

Raoul had used her. He didn't care for her at all. He had used her to kill Erik. To kill the man that had really loved her—all this time, she had been in love with a man that was playing with her. Did he laugh at her when she walked away? How many women did he kiss with those lips? Did his friends know?

She didn't utter any sound when she realized that Raoul had used her. She did, however, begin to laugh when she realized that Erik had been the real deal—that he loved her, and that she had mistaken her infatuation for love with Raoul. And because of that, she had killed her one true love.

_"It was long ago and far away_

_The world was younger than today"_

Her laughing grew louder, and louder, and louder—until they were nothing but crazed shrieking. She noticed the stares she got, so she ran—away from Erik's tomb, away from the square—she had been lucky the square had been farther away from the town, and that it had been surrounded by trees. She ran and ran and ran until she came upon a clearing.

It was heavily surrounded by trees—the full moon shone into the small glen, and the tree's leaves swayed in the gentle summer wind. Christine collapsed into the ground of the glen, sobbing, then standing. There were cuts on her arms and on her face—the trees surrounding the little glen had caught her dress, too.

Christine laughed wildly as she began to dance around the small glen, looking into the sky as she spun her arms around. She imagined herself on fire, burning up—flames at her finger tip, licking at the bottom of her dress…the sky nothing but a mess of black and white dots, the moon smiling down at her. The trees seemed to gain womanly faces, and sprout arms. They reached out for her, as if trying to comfort her, but she span away, laughing and shrieking.

She felt her soul soaring higher and higher—pushing against her physical body, wanting to be free. Her soul pushed and pushed and the physical barrier separating her soul from her body broke away. Christine gave a moan of ecstasy as she felt her soul soar away from her.

She crumpled onto the ground of the glen, smiling softly and her eyes glazed and half-lidded. Her hand came up to play with the grass in front of her face. She closed her eyes, exhausted, intent on taking a small nap. The trees reached out for her again, and she accepted them this time, letting them dry her tears and cradle her as she went to sleep.

Her eyes had been opened. She could see everything clearer now. She lifted her eyes to see the moon still smiling at her, and she gave a short laugh and waved. Then her eyes finally drooped with sleep, and closed. She wondered what kind of wonderful dream she would have.

_"When dreams were all they gave for free _

_To ugly duckling girls like me."_

**Author Note**

**The song used was Janis Ian's "At Seventeen".  
I do not own this song. I do not own any versions of the "Phantom of the Opera" books.**

It was fun writing this.

I realize that Christine is extremely OCC, as are many characters, but this is something I had to get out of my head. Please forgive me.

If you would like to read more of my PotO stories, please go to DeadlySerenade's account. I posted about three of my stories there—"Flawed", "Camellia", and "When She's Happy". Please read her stories, too. They're much better than mine, I assure you.

This has not been beta'd. Please forgive me. I will repost a beta'd version soon. Thank you.

I would very much appreciate it if you would leave a review…


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